


Little Ms. Smee

by lil_mel (mehlwrites)



Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Gen, Kinda, before Descendants, daughter of Smee, hint of Harry/OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 00:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mehlwrites/pseuds/lil_mel
Summary: Mr. Smee only taught his daughter one thing: to do whatever it takes to survive.And she did. More or less.





	Little Ms. Smee

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a prelude to the Descendants 2.

The first time Kristen's father came home with blood smeared across his shirt and arms, she could only stare.

It was a few days before her twelfth birthday and she knew her father had been trying to get more money to buy her a gift. Not like the ones he had given her on her previous birthdays, but something that a princess deserved. Something that _his_ princess deserved.

She wished she could tell him that what she truly ever wanted a safe place to call home.

She stared at him - blood dried on his shirt and cuts on his arms. He couldn't find it in himself to speak. Although his daughter was only a child, he knew she was much smarter than to be fooled by whatever he had to say. And so, he stared right back, hoping that she understood. And she did.

She grabbed a bucket by the sink, filled it up with water and quietly whispered, "Please don't do this again."

Mr. Smee only smiled at her, taking a seat by their table and waited for his daughter to attend to his wounds. Kristen Smee wiped away her tears before taking the bucket and some cloth. They both knew this wouldn't be the last time this would happen, but for now, they pretended.

* * *

Kristen knew how to survive, it was like this: scrubbing off the dirt and dust that had filled the villains' make-believe thrones, doing the other villain kids' homework, and making herself as dull as a brick to be deemed as _nothing_ by the inhabitants of the Isle of the Lost. It was how she had survived for the past 16 years. Being part of the background but being useful enough to become a minion.

"My dear Kristen, don't you have anything for me?" Harry Hook, slamming the door of her home open. She jumped, surprised by his entrance, almost burning her hand by the pot as she was cooking some soup.

"I-I haven't gone through the m-market yet to get some silver. I'll go right after I cook this," she stammered. He tsked, shaking his head dramatically.

"You know that I'm not a very patient person, Krissy." She did. They had known each other since they were babies after all.

"Of c-course. I'll finish this up very quickly, I promise!"

He walked up to where she was standing, looking over the pot. He had the murky scent of salt water and his clothes were tattered as if he had just been in a fight. He put his arm over her shoulder, using his hook to mix the soup. She tried not to stare at his face and stayed quiet.

He was about to take a lick the broth from his hook but she quickly grabbed his arm. He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't."

She looked at him with pleading eyes and then she jerked her chin at the pot.

 _Ah,_ he realized.

"I'll get your silver as soon as possible," she whispered.  _Right after I deliver this._

He took off his arm around and took a cloth on the counter to clean his hook. He wanted to laugh.

"Well then, I guess I'll leave you to your job then. Didn't realize what it was."

She wished he still didn't.

"Well then, I'll be coming back later." He grinned at her, bowing. She only nodded. He grazed his hook along her jaw.

"Just make sure this poison won't get into any of our friends' stomachs, yes?"

She nodded. And then he left, laughing. She knew Mother Gothel wasn't giving this to anyone on this side of the isle, but to some runt over at the edge of it. And she wanted the soup by the noon. The woman had gone to the salon and called onto Kristen to do the cooking. She was commonly asked to do these kinds of things for the villains.

It was her way of survival.

* * *

"What do you want? I'm a very busy woman."

Kristen gulped, looking at Maleficent laying down on the couch. The witch terrified her, even without magic.

"I h-have something that you might be i-interested in," she said.

"That's what they all say. Just get to point," the witch replied, rolling her eyes. Kristen opened her bag and took out a small bottle. Bright, golden fairy dust was seen through its surface. The witch quickly sat up.

"And where did you get that?" Maleficent asked, her voice low and her eyes narrowed.

"M-my father hid it. This was all that he h-had."

"Hmm, and why are you giving it to me? What do you want?" Maleficent leaned back, her calculating eyes observing the young woman in front of her.

"I-I want my family to be safe. T-to leave Isle of the Lost and Auradon."

The woman snorted, "I'm not your fairy godmother. I don't make fantasies come true, especially if it's a teenager's."

"The new king is to be coronated soon."

The witch's eyes narrowed, "And what of it?"

Kristen took a deep breath, "This fairy dust will help your daughter get to Auradon."

Maleficent raised an eyebrow as the young woman opened the bottle.

"This will help you get into his dreams."

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on the fact that Ben's proclamation was heavily influenced by a dream he had.


End file.
